


No One Knows What It’s Like

by Zoelily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Universe, Case Fic, Dean/Cas FlipFest, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, dcff18, flip fic, flipped tropes, profoundnet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 18:58:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14625021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoelily/pseuds/Zoelily
Summary: Now that Dean and Cas have finally stowed their shit, they can’t keep their hands off each other. They’re in that honeymoon phase where they take every opportunity to...well, let’s just say Sam’s seen and heard just about enough.  During a missing person’s case in a quiet town in the Ozarks, Dean gets hit with a curse that prevents him from being within twelve inches of any living thing...Cas included. While Sam stays behind to work the case, Dean and Cas try to navigate the new limitations of their relationship.  Can Sam find the answers before Dean and Cas internally combust?





	No One Knows What It’s Like

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the fest organizers at the Profound Net discord for running this challenge. This was such a fun story to write. It was challenging to flip the tropes and traits we all know and love while still keeping our faves in character, but I think I managed it. Enjoy.
> 
> Please give so much love to Foxymoley who illustrated this fic. She was an absolute joy to work with and went above and beyond with her amazing artwork, some of which may be a little NSFW. 
> 
> Many thanks to Rachel and Monica for their beta and editing skills. You owe them a debt of gratitude ;)
> 
> *The title of the fic comes from the song “Behind Blue Eyes” written by Peter Townshend and originally performed by The Who

[ ](https://ibb.co/bFkRCS)

Dean tilted his head back, uncaring that the shower spray was pelting him in the face.  The only thing he was fully aware of was the pleasure-pain of Cas’ blunt fingernails pressing possessively into his hip bones and the wet heat of Cas’ mouth as Dean rocked himself forward.  Cas hummed around the intrusion and relaxed his throat, stretching his long fingers and sliding his slippery hands to gain purchase on Dean’s ass cheeks, leaving Dean groaning at how amazing it felt when the tip of his cock actually bumped the back of Cas’ throat.   
  
“Oh, fuck,” Dean managed to choke out before all words were ripped away when Cas dropped one hand from Dean’s ass to wrap around his own swollen, neglected cock.  The sight of his angel, dripping wet and sucking him down to the hilt, was erotic; but, when he saw Castiel reach down and begin stroking his own rock-hard dick, Dean felt his end rushing up on him. Crying out his angel’s name, Dean exploded down Cas’ throat, almost losing his balance when the shuddering aftershocks vibrated through his body.  Not trusting his legs,  Dean carefully dropped to his knees and watched while Cas finished.  Damn, he was beautiful. Dean ran his fingers through the dark hair that was currently plastered to Cas’ head and trailed his palm down the side of Cas’ face, fingers splayed, watching the water droplets trickle down his tanned, golden skin. He couldn’t stop staring at the arousal he could see in the dark-storm blue of Cas’ eyes and when he finally did let his eyes stray to Cas’ lap, the sight of the shiny purple tip of Cas’ dick forcing its way in and out of Cas’ fist was not something he was gonna forget any time soon..“I’m close, Dean,” Cas panted, slipping one arm around Dean’s neck to hold on.     
  
Having spent a great deal of time recently learning the places where Cas was most sensitive, Dean’s fingers found their way down to Cas’ nipple and twisted, just on the edge of too hard the way Cas liked it, earning him a high-pitched whine that Dean caught with his lips, drawing him in for a quick but deep kiss before whispering.  “Come for me, Cas. I wanna see you lose it.”   
  
The sound Cas made when he came was almost inhuman, quickly followed by what Dean recognised as Enochian profanity.  The lights flickered just once, as Cas painted Dean’s belly with cum, droplets of shower water rinsing it away almost as quickly.  Cas’ breathing slowly evened out, and Dean held out his hand as he got up on one knee, pulling Cas up with him. 

 

  
  
“That was amazing, Dean,” Cas said with a gummy smile as he quickly washed himself off before the water got cold.   
  
“Fuck, yeah,” Dean replied.  “I've taken so many showers with just me and the palm of my hand. Such a waste, too, 'cause all this time, I coulda had you in here with me."   
  
Cas grabbed two of the dingy white, threadbare motel towels and passed one to Dean as they stepped out of the shower.  Dean rubbed the towel through his hair and gave his body a quick once over before tying it around his waist. Castiel did the same, although left his hair still dripping on his shoulders.  Dean shrugged at Cas’ inattention to human details and resisted the urge to take the few steps and lick up the droplets.   
  
Cas appeared in Dean’s personal space – a habit he still hadn’t broken and Dean secretly liked. “There’s nothing we can do about the past now, Dean Winchester.  We can only make the most of what we have together going forward.”   
  
Dean pulled Cas into his arms, enjoying the damp half-naked angel a little more than he probably should for someone who’d just gotten off, and kissed down his jaw tenderly.  “I intend to make the most of every free minute, trust me.” Cas moaned at the contact, pressing against Dean and trailing his wet hair against his cheek. “Uh, Dean, if we don’t get out of this bathroom, your brother is going to start complaining; he may already be back, and these walls are paper thin.”   
  
“Shit,” Dean said, knowing Cas was right.  He stepped away and took a few deeps breaths in an attempt to calm his body. The perpetual simmer of arousal that seemed to exist under his skin anytime he was with Cas was manageable, so he aimed for that. “Okay, time to face the music.”     
  
Dean unlocked the door and walked out to see a couple of pizza boxes unopened on the formica table, a bottle of beer in Sam’s hand, and frustrated scowl on his brother’s face.   
  
“Hey, look!  Pizza’s here, Cas,” Dean said with an exaggerated smile as he and Cas shuffled out of the bathroom, Dean heading straight for his duffel and Cas to the folded suit, shirt and trench in a neat pile at the end of Dean’s bed.  “I was gonna start chewin’ on my own leg if you didn’t get back soon.”    
  
The bitch face Sam tossed at him before tipping back the beer bottle was pretty epic, so Dean knew they weren’t off the hook.  He made his way over to the fridge and grabbed a couple of beers, one of which he passed on to Cas. Cas smiled and nodded his thanks; just a tiny thing that made Dean’s gut feel all twisted. His brother waited until Dean sat down at the table and grabbed for a slice of pizza before he let loose with the inevitable.   
  
“Do you guys ever stop?” Sam asked, the exasperation clear in his tone. “For real.  I thought the mutual pining and eye sex was bad, but this is so much worse.”    
  
“For fuck’s sake, it’s not like we’re pawing at each other when you’re in the room, Samantha,” Dean said, slightly annoyed.  “You’ve been pressing us to stow our shit, and now you wanna bitch about it when we, uh…” Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to spell out  _ exactly _ what they were doing. “...well...you get the point,” he finished ineloquently.   
  
Sam took another good swig of his beer and then sighed.  “Look guys, it’s just, there are some things I’ll never  _ un-hear _ , okay?”  He glanced over at Cas and then stared right at Dean. “I’m glad you’re both finally on the same page.  I want you to be happy; maybe just try and keep it down a bit, or put a sock on the door-handle or something.  My ears can’t take it.”   
  
“My apologies, Sam,” Cas said, his formality comforting and familiar, “we will endeavour to keep our erotic sonance to a lower decibel.”   
  
Dean damn near choked on his pizza.  “Jesus, Cas! Warn a guy. You can’t just say shit like that.”   
  
“I was only telling your brother that -”   
  
“Yeah I got that,” Dean interrupted, “I just don’t think Sam wants to hear about our  _ erotic romance”  _ _  
_ _  
_ “It was  _ erotic sonance,  _ Dean; the sexualized sounds we make when we’re being intimate.”   
  
“Fuck.  You’re just making it worse.” Dean could feel the warmth rushing to his cheeks.  Cas could be so infuriating sometimes. “What’s with the air quotes, anyway?”   
  
“I’m using them because you did,” Cas replied with his jaw set and his eyes squinty, just a sliver of blue now staring at Dean under bushy brows and frown lines..   
  
“Okay, guys,” Sam said, insinuating his way into their personal space.  Dean had almost forgotten he was there. “You kinda hit the nail on the head right there.  I don’t wanna hear about your erotic anything. I’m happy for you. I’m thrilled for you, actually, but I don’t need to listen to it in surround sound every time you think you’re completely alone together.”  Sam stopped to take a deep breath. “We good?”   
  
Dean nodded, all the while not taking his eyes off the label on his beer bottle.  He’d been working the damp edge with his fingernail throughout their conversation, and it was finally starting to come clear of the bottle.  He glanced up at Cas, who lifted his chin and answered quietly, “Of course, Sam.”   
  
“Okay, now that that’s done and never to be brought up again, let’s take care of this pizza, shall we?” Dean stated, finally taking the opportunity to shove half the slice in his mouth, attempting to keep the tomato sauce from oozing out of the corners while he chewed on the overload of crust and cheese.  Not a damn vegetable to be found, of course. Dammit, Sam! Next time he was gonna go get the food himself. 

 

 

  
  
  
Dean was just starting to get back to that level of full where you don’t feel like you need to loosen your belt.  For the first fifteen minutes after he’d changed into his fed suit and they’d pulled onto the road towards town, he’d still been bloated and sluggish from way too much carbs and cheese.  Some day he was gonna have to admit to himself that he couldn’t eat like he was in his twenties anymore, but he was planning on putting that day off as long as possible. They’d picked up coffee at a Gas ‘N’ Sip across from the motel, so he was at least alert as he pressed Baby’s brake to pull up to the first stoplight.   
  
Hazelton, Arkansas, was unremarkable as far as tiny Ozark communities went – pretty little mountain town with plenty of homegrown, Mom and Pop flavor.  When Sam had called Arthur Schumann’s daughter, Mia, to request a meeting, she’d suggested they meet at  _ The Daisy Chain _ , a coffee shop in town that was open evenings.  Cas had been the one to spot the whimsical sign on a converted civil war era house in just enough time for Dean to pull the Impala right out front.   
  
“Looks like it’s a bookstore, too,” Sam said excitedly, reaching for the car door.   
  
“Hey, hey, Nerd.  Lets not get ahead of ourselves here.”  Dean scrunched his shoulders and bent his head to get a better look through the passenger side window, but the sun was starting to dip low enough in the sky that they were losing light.  “It’s hard to see, but it looks like one of those sketchy witchy kinda stores to me.”   
  
“You mean  _ metaphysical _ ,” Cas piped up from the backseat.  “Stores that cater to Pagans, and Wiccans aren’t sketchy, Dean.  That’s stereotyping and…”   
  
“Okay, Cas, you can skip today’s lecture,” Dean joked, turning and hanging his open hand over the back seat so Cas could slide his in it, hoping that was enough to reiterate to Cas that he was just teasing.  Cas’ pleased smile seemed to indicate that he understood. “Anyway, let’s just make sure we’ve got our heads in the case. No distractions. Got it, Sammy?”   
  
Sam’s eyes flitted down to Dean and Cas’ joined hands and then back to Dean, the smirk on his face almost comical.  “Yeah, I got it, Jerk.   
  
Dean turned to grab the door handle, turning his head at the last second.  “Awesome, Bitch.”   
  
The inside of  _ The Daisy Chain  _ was an eclectic mix of cafe and specialty shop.  The melodic sound when they entered reminded Dean of chimes on a windy night before a thunderstorm.  He felt the slight shiver prickle under his skin even though it had to be seventy degrees outside still.  There was a young couple sitting at one of the cozy tables absorbed in only each other and a tiny woman with short spiked hair and a welcoming smile behind the counter.     
  
Sam, looking even more gigantor than usual towering over the petite brunette, went straight in with the puppy dog eyes.    
  
“Hi,” Sam said, smiling brightly.  “I’m Agent Townsend of the FBI. I’m looking for Mia Schumann.”

  
“Well you’ve found her,” the woman said with an answering grin, clearly not immune to Sam’s charm.     
  
Dean gave his brother a mental “high five” while he waited patiently beside Cas for Sam to make the introductions.  They didn’t have to wait long. Sam turned to them immediately. “This is my partner, Agent Daltrey,” Sam said, gesturing to Dean, and then turning to Cas “and Field Operative in training, Agent Moon.”   
  
“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Mia said, her tone less cheery.  “And don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the help, I’m just not sure why my dad’s disappearance warrants three FBI agents.”   
  
“Your father’s is actually the sixth in a string of disappearances that have several similarities, Ms. Schumann,” Dean explained.  It felt weird to be telling the truth for once, well, except for the FBI part, of course. “All of the missing persons are male, middle-age, white-collar, divorced businessmen.  Although they’re from different states, each disappeared without a trace, no warning, took nothing with them, and there are no leads.”   
  
Mia’s expression had gone from cheerful, to wary, to downright dejected.  Dean felt like shit. “I’m sorry, you probably didn’t need to hear all that.”   
  
“No, that’s okay.”  Mia shrugged her shoulders and sighed.  “None of that was news to me, except that Dad isn’t the only one missing.”  After a pause, she straightened her upper body and made eye contact with all three of them one at a time before speaking clearly.  “What can I do to help?”   
  
This was the part that his sensitive brother had a knack for, so Dean left Sam and Cas to the questions while he wandered over to a glass display of whimsical fairies.  He picked up one of the colorful figurines and chuckled as he thought about his experience with fae. “Yeah, if the people that bought this crap only knew,” Dean muttered to himself as he put the fairy back on the shelf with the others.  He followed the short aisle to the back wall where there was a display of tarot decks. Dean was actually pretty impressed at the artwork on some of them, but still, witchy shit; it gave him the heebie jeebies.   
  
Dean rounded the corner, and he could almost feel his eyes pop at the display in front of him.  Directly to his right were several dozen small metal bins, labeled with names that Dean mostly recognized as spell ingredients, medicines, cleansers, nothing they didn’t have in quantity at the bunker.  With the possible exception of the herbs, the aisle was in complete chaos. There seemed to be no order or structure that Dean could see – just a riot of color and disarray. Varying mystical and magickal items spilled over from the cluttered shelves onto the floor as Dean picked his way around boxes and over stacks of books.  The fact that this disaster and the quaint little cafe out front could even occupy the same space just didn’t compute.    
  
“Thanks for your time, Ms. Schumann,” Dean could just hear Cas say from the front counter.   
  
“I just wish I could do more.  And please, call me Mia.”   
  
Trying not to stumble over anything, Dean worked his way back the way he came.  Just as he was about to turn the corner parallel to the wall of tarot cards, the tail of his jacket caught on a stray incense stick poking out of a wicker basket.     
  
“Um, Agent Daltrey?” Sam called out. “If you’re finished looking around, Mia told us about a place we can go play a few games of pool and take a load off.”    
  
Damn that sounded great.  Dean was ready to kick back and relax for the rest of the evening.  “Yeah, I’m comin’,” he hollered back as he spun around to detached his jacket from the incense.  It was as if it happened in slow motion. As Dean’s body turned, the incense pushed the wicker basket, which proceeded to tip the one beside it, dumping the assorted contents onto the shelf below, causing the the most epic and eclectic of all domino effects, and all Dean could do was watch in awe as practically the entire contents of the lower shelves on the one side toppled to the ground.  He was literally swimming in crystals and orbs and twine and candles and fabric and glitter. Dean looked up slowly to see Sam, Cas and Mia standing at the end of the aisle staring at him with their mouths wide open in shock.   
  
“I, uh – ,”    
  
Dean took in the mess at his feet, and then looked back up slowly, knowing the embarrassed heat he could feel prickling up his neck would be obvious on his freckled cheeks.   
  
“Oh fuck,” Mia blurted out, already crouching to start gathering things into her arms as she rushed towards Dean.  She stopped mid-reach and covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry. It’s just, this place is such a nightmare.  This isn’t your fault at all.” Mia looked like she was about to burst into tears at any moment. Sam curled his giant paw over the ridge of her collarbone and squeezed comfortingly.  “Hey, it’s alright. We’ll help you pick it all up, since it was my klutz of a partner that made the mess anyway.” Sam shot daggers at Dean with his eyes and Dean just shrugged, following Sam’s lead back out to the cafe. Dean noticed the young couple had left, and they now had the place to themselves.  Sam took advantage of that fact by pulling out a chair for Mia and gently pushing her to sit in it. He took a seat beside her and spoke softly, as if he were trying to settle an upset child. “Is there anything I can get you?”   
  
Mia shook her head, sniffing back the tears that had started to form at the corner of her eyes.  Dean spotted a box of Kleenex on the front countertop, so he stepped over to grab it and set it on the little round cafe table.  Mia nodded her thanks with a soft smile and pulled a tissue free, using it to dab about her eyes and wipe her nose.   
  
“Thank you,” she said, once her breath returned to normal.  “I didn’t mean to get all emo on you like that. I’ve just been meaning to sort those shelves since Grandmother left me this place, but time just keeps getting away from me.  And now, everything with Dad.” Mia patted at her eyes again. Dean felt for her. Sounded like the chick had a lot going on.   
  
Cas tilted his head, something clearly having just occurred to him.  “How long ago did your Grandmother leave you the store, Mia?” he asked, his attempt at an empathetic look doing little to hide his eagerness in having something to contribute.   
  
“A little over a month ago,” Mia replied, her voice tinged with sadness. “This was her little slice of happiness, you know?  Not much really, but it was a place to pass on her recipes and her knowledge to this little mountain town. She and I spent so many hours here together when I was growing up, it was only natural it would be mine when she passed.”   
  
“I’m really sorry about your grandma,” Dean said solemnly.  “You’ve been dealt a shit hand the last while. I’m not surprised you haven’t had time to clean up around here.  You got anyone else working for ya?” Dean didn’t think Cas had anything specific in mind asking about the store, probably just working all angles, but might as well flesh it out.    
  
Mia shrugged her shoulders.  “Just a couple of high school girls, Ruthie and Kayla.  My brother does the books and helps out with deliveries, and he occasionally covers if I need a break, but mostly it’s just me and the girls.”  Mia’s face suddenly broke into a shy smile for the first time since they sat down. “Nate is watching the store for the next two days, actually.  I’m flying down to Austin for the Body, Mind, and Spirit Expo. I should close this place up and head home, actually. Nate’s picking me up pretty early.  Gotta get into the city to catch my flight.”   
  
Sam stood when Mia did, grabbing both of their chairs and pushing them up to the table.  ‘We can give you a hand with the mess, get you outta here a little faster.”   
  
“You know, I think I’m just gonna leave it,” Mia shrugged, walking over to the window to turn the door sign to closed and flip the switch for the outside lights.  “Place isn't open tomorrow anyway, and I’ll pay the girls a little extra to come in and do it. They always appreciate extra hours when they can get them. They like to take the Greyhound into the city and go shopping at the big outlet mall.”    
  
Dean followed Sam towards the glass door – Cas trailing behind.  “Well we better get out of your hair then,” he said.   
  
“You’ve got  my number if you think of anything that could help us in locating your dad, or, just if, you know, you need anything,” Sam managed to blubber out as one long, jerky word with no breaths until the end.  Not only that, but he was looking at his pontoon feet the entire time. Dean was definitely gonna get some solid teasing use out of this one. He could feel the grin pulling at the corners of his mouth just thinking about razzing his brother.   
  
Mia held up her phone and smiled. Sam worked fast apparently.  Dean was impressed. After a quick promise to stay in touch over details of the case and wishing Mia a safe trip to Texas, they were back in the Impala headed back to the motel.  No one was much in the mood for pool after such an eventful evening, so Sam googled a Chinese takeout place and called in an order to grab on the way. 

 

  
  
  
_ Do not mistake temptation for opportunity – in bed,  _ Cas read from the tiny slip of paper.  “I don’t understand why I have to add that part to the end.  It doesn’t say that.”   
  
“It just makes it funnier,” Dean replied. “What does yours say, Sammy?”   
  
Sam was still busy picking the last of the vegetables out of his food so he could eat it.  One of these days, Sam’s awful eating habits were gonna catch up to him. Dean knew he wasn’t exactly Mr. Granola and Sprouts, but Sam acted like vegetables, or anything healthy, did something to personally affront him.  Sam looked up from stabbing a piece of bok choy from his plate and transferring to Dean’s and grabbed his cookie, snapping it open to pick out the fortune.   
  
_ He who laughs at himself never runs out of things to laugh at – in bed,  _ Sam read.  Dean laughed.  That one was actually pretty good.  He grabbed his cookie and broke it, popping both halves in his mouth, enjoying the slightly sweet crunch of the flavor that was reminiscent of growing up on the road.  He smoothed out his slip of paper and read aloud around the cookie pieces in his mouth.  _ Distance often makes the heart grow fonder – in bed. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “ _ Well that’s just a pile of crap,” Dean laughed, turning his head to leer at Cas.  “Closer you and I are in bed the better, right baby?”   
  
“I’m not fond of that term of endearment, Dean,” Cas responded, looking a little put out, “but I do agree you’d have a difficult time with distance in bed.  You sleep much like a koala bear. You’re very clingy.”   
  
Now apparently it was Sam’s turn to laugh at his expense. “Hey, nothing wrong with getting all cozy with the one you love,” Dean said, winking at Cas.     
  
“I concur,” Cas replied with a gummy smile.   
  
It occurred to Dean that with as busy as they’d been, he hadn’t been very handsy with Cas all day and it was definitely time to rectify that.  He got up from his chair and swung around, well and truly ready to perch himself in his boyfriends lap and gather him into an after-dinner squeeze, brother in the room be damned.  He got about a foot away, just twelve inches, and he stopped, or rather he was stopped – like there was a force field, no that was ridiculous, but that’s what it felt like. What the fuck? Dean systematically pressed his shoulder, hands, head, feet against an invisible barrier that seemed to have a little bit of give, but wouldn’t actually let him push through, like a bubble. That was it. “Uh, you guys,” he groaned, watching Cas’ face as he caught on that something was clearly going on, “we got a problem.”  


  
_  
_   


  
  
It took very little testing to work out that Dean could touch things but not people.  The distance seemed to be almost exactly a foot. It was frustrating as all get out, and Dean was irritable and snappy.  All signs pointed to a curse, probably from one of, or a combination of, the items that Dean had sent flying at _The Daisy Chain_ earlier in the evening.  The fact Mia was heading out of town, and the cafe was closed, were just adding to the biggest bummer of all – he couldn’t even kiss Cas.  Yes, Dean had gone years without knowing the feel of Cas’ skin under his lips – the taste of windblown sunshine and the tangy scent of petrichor; but, now that he’d been exposed, he was like an addict jonesing for a fix.  Cas seemed to be faring a little better, if only for lack of having to deal with the curse itself, and Sam was just annoyed with Dean’s whining.  
  
“Dean, I really don’t think there’s anything we can do until Mia gets back.  I’m sure you can survive a couple of days.”  
  
Fuck!  Sam just wasn’t getting it though.  “A couple of days?” Dean slammed both palms down on the table, because at least he could feel that, and glared daggers at his brother.  “Of course you think I can survive a couple of days. You’re not the one who can’t go within the length of one of your clown feet of another person without running into an invisible rubber wall.”    
  
Sam rose to his full height.  “And you’re just pissed off and sexually frustrated because you can’t get off without having to go back to taking care of it yourself for a day or two.  You can still work; you can still eat and sleep. This isn’t a crisis, Dean.”  
  
Dean was just just about to toss back something about leaving his and Cas’ sex life out of it when the angel in question stepped between them.  “Enough! You are resorting to childish arguments over this. I don’t have a solution, but I do have a suggestion.”  
  
He was willing to listen to any and all ideas right now, especially from Cas who was suffering as much as he was, so Dean took a step back.  Sam nodded as well. Cas dropped his hands and stuffed them in the pockets of his trench before settling his gentle blue eyes on Dean. “I suggest we go back to the bunker and –.”  
  
“What the hell, Cas!” Dean interrupted.  Was he crazy? “Are you crazy? I’m not gonna just go home and sit there with my thumb up my ass for two days. Besides, I thought we were working a case, or did you forget about why we’re here in the first place?”  
  
“Why don’t you let him finish,” Sam admonished.  
  
“Thank you, Sam.” Cas turned back to him with his shoulders squared and his chin raised, practically daring Dean to interrupt him again.  “I think _you and I_ should go home and work the case from there while Sam covers things here and meets up with Mia when she gets back – maybe even checks out the store before then.”  Cas lifted his hand to place it on Dean’s arm, only to be thwarted twelve inches away. The disappointment on his face was clear, and Dean felt it to his core. “You’re too distracted and irritable here, Dean.”  
  
Dean pushed his fingers back through his hair.  He really needed a haircut, but Cas preferred it with a little length.  He liked to tug on it a bit while he… Fuck, they needed to get this curse off, like yesterday. “Okay, whatever, I just need this thing gone.  This kosher with you, Sammy?  
  
Sam nodded.  “I’m more than happy to finish up here.”  
  
“You just wanna finish up Mia,” Dean joked, privately congratulating himself for being hilarious. “I saw her giving you the sasquatch eyes.”  
  
“Don’t be gross, Dean,” Sam chided, rolling his eyes.  “Look, Cas had a decent idea and I think we’re all on board, but for now, everyone’s tired and miserable, so let's just crash for now and work out the details in the morning."  
  
Dean had to admit, he was beat.  “Yeah, I’m ready for my four hours,” he mumbled mid-yawn.  “What about you, Cas? You gonna take a load off?” Recently, Cas had begun spending full nights with Dean – not sleeping, unless his grace was depleted, just resting in the comfort of his boyfriend’s embrace.  Suddenly it occurred to Dean that when he crawled into bed tonight, the solid planes of Cas's body would be out of reach for the first time since they'd become intimate. He couldn't help the gasp that escaped him at the realization. Cas seemed to be watching him intently.  
  
“I think it would be best for me to stay up,” Cas replied, his eyes never leaving Dean’s, and Dean got the message.  Laying beside each other in bed and being unable to touch would be torture – for both of them. “If I can borrow your laptop, Sam, I’ll start some research on possible causes for the curse.  It would make me feel useful.”  
  
“Yes. Of course,” Sam said, sliding the laptop across the table.  “Wifi’s pretty good here if you wanna stream Netflix or something.  
  
“Thank you, Sam,” Cas replied, turning away as Sam stripped off his shirt and tossed it on his duffel. He looked at Dean. They were both marginally aware of Sam going into the bathroom and closing the door.  Dean held up his right hand, palm facing Cas, and Cas mirrored him with his left, They stood frozen, a foot apart, and every nerve in Dean’s body was screaming to bridge the distance and touch but that damn bubble just wouldn’t let him through.    
  
“Fuck, Cas.  I gotta admit, the idea of going to sleep without kissing you goodnight is kinda killing me here,” Dean said, hoping Cas could see the sincerity in his eyes, or hear it in his voice.  
  
“I understand that frustration,” Cas growled, possessive and beautiful.    
  
“Yeah, I’m gonna,” and he tilted his head at the bed.  Cas just nodded and sat at the little table in front of the laptop, immediately tapping something into Google.  Sam came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, and Dean took his turn. He had to think of a couple of particularly disgusting hunts to will away the effect Cas had on him to even get his dick chill enough to take a piss.  He was honestly just too damn tired and annoyed to wanna take care of it himself. A few minutes later he was alone in the motel bed in that floaty place where you’re not quite asleep but not really awake anymore, and curses don’t exist, and angels are all curled up in bed with the men they love, and there’s pie for dessert every night.  
  
In the morning there was minimal discussion. Dean and Cas left first thing, leaving at the same time Sam planned to walk over to the motel office to book the room for three more nights. The three-hundred-and-fifty miles back to Lebanon actually took less time than a roadtrip with Cas typically would – no stopping for quick make-outs in baby’s backseat, or meandering to some roadside attraction that neither could live another day without exploring together.   
  
In reality though, it seemed to take much longer.  Without those things, the drive lacked interest. Dean couldn’t even take Cas’ hand across the seat and tap their fingers together to the beat while they sang along to the mixtapes Dean had made.  In fact, Dean turned the music off after the first hour.  
  
Arriving home at the bunker was an improvement. At least, in familiar surroundings, Dean could pretend everything was normal.  Until just recently, this was the status quo anyway; Sam was his brother and Cas was his best friend.  Dean would lay down his life for either one; in fact, he had on more than one occasion. The fact was, that hadn’t changed, nor had Dean’s feelings.  He could admit now that he’d loved Cas a long time, much longer than even Cas knew. Here, at the bunker, they could go about their routine; they just had to turn back time to how things were before he and Cas were a couple .  
  
Even in his own room, stretched out on the mattress that remembered every inch of his frame, there was a Cas-shaped hole beside him on the bed, but it had always been there – even before Dean had really understood what it was. But now, having gotten used to Castiel filling that hole, it was harder to ignore.   
  
Dean didn’t feel much like making breakfast after another restless night. He made a pot of coffee and settled on cold cereal, taking everything to the table.  He was just getting set to pour the milk over his Lucky Charms when Cas made his appearance.   
  
“Hello, Dean,” Cas grumbled.  “I smelled coffee.”

  
“Mornin’, Sunshine,” Dean replied.  “Yeah, I got you covered.” Dean got up and filled a mug of coffee for Cas, adding some cream and sugar, just the way he knew Cas liked it.  He placed the coffee on the table and managed to only lean in a couple of inches this time before he remembered kissing Cas good morning was no longer a thing he could do.  That soured his mood instantly.   
  
“Any luck on the overnight research?” Dean asked as he dragged out his chair and flopped back down opposite Cas.   
  
Cas took a tentative sip of his coffee, checking for the correct sweetness, before taking a larger swallow.  He set the mug back down before meeting Dean’s eyes, his disappointment evident. “Nothing we hadn’t already assumed.  It’s a curse, not a spell – likely tied to an object of some sort.”   
  
Dean dropped his head against the table, fighting the urge to say “duh, Cas.”  He counted to five under his breath before slowly looking up. “Did you find out anything actually useful?”   
  
“Well,” Cas mused, “I’m not sure how useful it is, but it will ease your mind, and Sam’s, to know that it seems to be a curse that was designed to retaliate in an escalating rally of practical jokes, rather than to actually maim or kill someone.”   
  
Dean snorted.  “Well I ain’t dead or dying, but you never know how these things are gonna creep up on ya, so thanks for that.  Now, you’re telling me I’m just caught up in some kind of cursed prank war?”   
  
“It seems that way, yes,” Cas replied.   
  
“Son of a bitch,” Dean groaned, “so our best hope probably is Mia, although it doesn’t sound like she had much clue about the inventory in that store.”   
  
Shaking his head, Dean grabbed the milk and tipped the jug haphazardly over his cereal bowl.  The splash of rainbow marshmallows over the side was almost welcome. Dean was in a messy mood.  “Dean?” He jumped a little at Cas saying his name, realizing he hadn’t been paying attention at all.  “Yeah?” he answered, quietly.   
  
“Sam will find the answer and fix this.  Maybe he’s found the cursed object already, and he’ll be calling any minute.”   
  
Dean wished more than anything he could pull Cas into his arms right now.  Cas was full of shit, and Dean knew that Cas knew that Dean knew it, but it was the point of the thing.  It had taken Cas a long time to learn about human emotions and he still struggled with the complexities of the way people tick, but he was an earnest student.  These days, Dean was pretty sure Cas had more humanity than any human he knew, including himself. Cas would say or do anything to make Dean feel better, and Dean loved him for it.   
  
“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said, smiling weakly but with what he hoped was genuine gratitude showing on his face.  “So, whatcha wanna do now?”  


  
  
  


  
  
The first day wasn’t that bad.  They field-stripped all the weapons – even going as far as to haul the rarely used ones in from the car – went for a walk around the power plant, Neflixed without chillin’. Cas even made his famous burgers for supper.   Dean struggled with not being able to touch Cas. But, mostly it was a lot like how things used to be, even the slightly simmering sexual tension.   
  
Going to bed was the worst.  By mutual agreement, they’d decided Cas wouldn’t spend the night in what was fast becoming their room.  Cas didn’t have any worldly possessions that Dean needed to make space for. He didn’t need to clean out a drawer or clear out half the antique wardrobe for his sanctuary to suddenly have more warmth and familiarity.  When he and Sam first moved into the bunker, Dean had been like a kid at Christmas at the idea of having a bedroom to call his own – something he’d never had as a child, let alone an adult. It wasn’t anything fancy, but hell, Dean Winchester wasn’t a fancy guy.  It was his. And now, his room seemed empty. There was a little evidence of Cas’ recent presence scattered around the room: a small stack of cookbooks he’d picked up at the library were set neatly on the desk, the plaid pajama pants and threadbare t-shirt Cas had borrowed to watch movies in a few nights back were slung over the back of the chair, and a pad with a note in Cas’ scrawly handwriting sat on Dean’s nightstand like it had for days.  **_I love you. I’m making coffee. C._ ** Dean stared at the note.  It made the room feel a little bit fuller.   
  


Day two got off to a rough start.  It was only because he was still half asleep that he didn’t smell it sooner, but the sweet aroma of baked goodness was overwhelming by the time Dean reached the kitchen.     
  
“What the hell, Cas?” tumbled from his lips before he even had time to process what he was seeing.   
  
“Sam is working the case, so I didn’t see any point in researching,”  Cas said, standing his ground as well as he could in apron that said  **KISS THE COCK** in bright purple letters, surrounded by more pies and cupcakes and cookies than your average bakery.     
  
“Okay, so you went on a damn baking spree, but why does your apron say kiss the cock?” Dean could hear his voice getting higher pitched.  “I haven’t had coffee, there’s blue icing as far as the eye can see, and your apron is telling me to do something I would fucking love to do right now but I can’t!”    
  
Cas just blinked at Dean like he was losing his mind, and hell, maybe he was.  This curse sucked. Cas really did look confused though. He tilted his head down to look at the front of his apron and started to chuckle. Now it was Dean’s turn to be confused.  ‘What’s so funny?”   
  
Cas swiped his finger over the  **C** on his chest only to have it covered in blue frosting and the  **C** turn into an  **O** .  Oh.  That made more sense.   **KISS THE COOK** .  Well shit, it’s not like he could do that either.  “Stop laughing. I can’t kiss you, either,” he grumbled.  
  


  


 

  
“I’m sorry,” Cas said, looking somewhat contrite, if not still a little amused, “but you have to admit that was a little bit funny.”   
  
Once he felt the corners of his mouth start to tug at his cheeks, Dean knew he was done for.  He was still laughing when he went to grab his coffee and snagged a chocolate cupcake. The next problem began when he turned to go sit down.  In the short time it had taken Dean to grab his coffee, Cas had taken off the apron and was now attempting to wipe frosting off his face with the hem of his borrowed t-shirt.  The slight hum of arousal Dean had been ignoring since the day before suddenly ramped up to a deafening roar and Dean marched up to Cas ready to grab the shirt and yank it over his head, all the while picturing how he was gonna lick every speck of that frosting clean off.  Cas stood there, eyes wide, as Dean reached his twelve inch limit and groaned with frustration.   
  
“Fuck!” Dean growled. “I’m going for a run.”  
  


  
  


 

Dean loved the feel of his feet hitting the dry earth and the fresh air rushing through his lungs.  He ran most mornings when they were home at the bunker, and he missed it when they were on the road.  It helped clear his head, and he supposed, along with chasing down monsters, it kept him in pretty good shape. Cas didn’t seem to be complaining anyway.  Damn it! Cas was who he came out here to avoid thinking about. Dean shook his head and focused on his breathing – in through his nose and out through his mouth as he paced himself along the wooded trail.   
  
The area around the bunker was peaceful.  When Dean got out here among the scrappy trees and the endless Kansas sky, it made all of the other crap seem just a little more insignificant.  He chased the clarity as he ran, eventually stopping at the clearing of tall grasses and wildflowers just behind the old power plant. Dean stood, bent at the waist and hands planted on his knees, sipping at the water bottle he’d brought, and watched as bees levitated from flower to flower.  They always fascinated him. They had such a specific role in the ecosystem and so much depended on them. Dean felt that weight sometimes but these days, he had other pieces of his life that helped to keep it in balance – home, Cas.    
  
Dean felt lighter walking back to the bunker, the need to pound the earth with his feet having flown away with the bees.  Not bothering with a shower, Dean made his way to the garage. Baby needed a bath, and Dean would just end up soaked anyway.     
  
It took close to an hour to wash the entire length of the Impala with soap and a soft sponge, and Dean had worked up another layer of sweat by the time he was finished. He connected the hose and turned on the water, watching as it left an inky trail on the cement. The sight of the cool, clear liquid made his itchy, overheated skin suddenly crave the cold moisture. Dean grabbed the hose and held it over his head, tilting his chin to let the water flush the sweat from his neck. Fuck, it felt like icicles on his clammy skin, but it cooled him instantly. He tucked the hose between his knees and yanked his soaked t-shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. Remembering at the last minute, Dean slipped his phone out of the mesh pocket of his running shorts and set it on the toolbox. The cheap, gas station burner phones they often used were one thing, but his one good iPhone would take a few games of pool to replace.    
  


  
  
Figuring Baby could wait for her shower until he’d had his turn, Dean turned the hose on himself and let the water soak his entire body.  He closed his eyes and moaned as the rush of cold liquid washed down his face and chest. It was no surprise that he didn’t hear the garage door opening, and he had no idea he was being watched until he heard Cas groan his name.   
  
Dean’s eyes fluttered open and he dropped the arm holding the hose, realizing too late that he was spraying water all over the vintage motorcycles. “Shit,” he mumbled under his breath, scrambling to turn off the water. “Cas?” he questioned, staring in awe at his angel. Cas looked fucking wrecked!  He stood just inside the door, in Dean’s blue plaid sleep pants and “Supertramp” tee, his face flushed and his eyes dark and wanting. Dean could clearly see the raised outline of Cas’ cock where it was hard enough to tent the front of the soft fleece pants. Dean was frozen on the spot, staring, completely unable to will his body to move.   
  
Apparently, Cas didn’t have the same problem. Once their eyes connected, he advanced on Dean, his body moving with intent.  Dean instinctively took a step back, never letting his gaze drop from Cas’. Another step and he felt something solid and slippery against his ass; his car. Cas kept moving.  “Why are you out here half naked and soaking wet?”   
  
Cas’ voice was deeper than ever, and Dean didn’t even think that was possible but if the way his dick was reacting was any indication, he definitely liked it.  A few days without touching and both he and Cas were about ready to internally combust. Up until that moment, he’d conveniently forgotten all about the stupid curse and clearly Cas had too.  Just as Dean was about to open his mouth to say something, Cas took one more step and hit that twelve inch bubble, eyes widening in shock.    
  
“Son of a bitch,” Dean swore, dropping his hand to palm himself through his shorts.  “I have never hated this fucking curse more than I do right this damn minute.”   
  
“I concur,” Cas agreed, moving to lean against the Impala, his eyes flitting down to the movement of Dean’s hand. “Did you decide to strip down and wash your car just to antagonize me?”

 “What? No!  I’d make myself just as crazy.”  
  
“It appears you accomplished that anyway,” Cas said, his tone commanding and sensual.    
  
Dean shivered at the tone and curled his hand more firmly around his dick.  His running shorts were thin, leaving little to dissuade his fingers from searching out the veins and ridges and applying just the right amount of pressure to have him want to start moving his hips in tandem.  Dean turned until he was facing Cas, still leaning against the soapy car. “You’re the one who drives me crazy, Cas. Look how hard I am for you, and you haven’t even touched me.”   
  
Dean focused his gaze directly on Cas’ eyes; he wanted Cas to stay with him. Leaning his hip against the Impala to keep his balance, Dean kept one hand around his cock, firmly stroking up the firm ridge easily felt through his shorts and the other he slowly brought to his lips. He ran the pads of his fingers along his bottom lip. He could feel his eyelashes flutter automatically, like one of the heroines in those trash novels they sometimes found in the motel dressers. Hearing Cas’ breathing, he could tell Cas was just as affected by watching the action as Dean was by performing it. 

Dean sucked the two fingers into his mouth, gently swirling his tongue around them, never taking his eyes off Cas. 

Arms shaking, Cas finally pushed down the front of his borrowed, fleece pants and his cock bobbed free, hard and red and already damp at the tip. Dean wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees and worship it with his tongue like he was currently lavishing his fingers. He couldn’t resist the urge to at least feel something, anything close, and suddenly found himself kneeling at Cas’ feet. 

The moan that escaped Cas’ throat when he finally wrapped his fingers around his own dick was sinful, and Dean answered it with growl of his own. “Fuck,” he hissed as he trailed his damp fingers down his still-wet chest, brushing a pebbled nipple on his way to his cock. He couldn’t kneel a foot from Cas’ crotch, unable to do anything but watch Cas jack himself, and not have his hand moving on his own cock. He shoved his shorts down as best as he could with one hand, never more thankful for elastic waistbands, and roughly took himself in hand. 

The cement floor was doing a number on his knees, but Dean didn’t give a shit if he couldn’t walk for a week. Words were tumbling out of Cas’ mouth now like he had no control; some in English, others in jumbled Enochian. In any language, they were filthy and hot and they had Dean riding the edge in no time. 

“I’m close,” Cas panted, stripping his cock in his elegant fist, never taking his eyes from Dean’s. “You’re so beautiful, my Dean. I wish I could come on your face – see my spend coating your lashes and shining on your lips. I want the world to know that you’re mine.”

Cas painted one hell of a picture, and his words affected Dean in a way nothing else did. The combination of Cas’ possessive tone and the erotic live show playing in front of him had Dean’s orgasm roaring to the surface and before he realized it he was spurting his release onto the oil-stained cement. 

“Deeeeaaan,” Cas keened, his entire body stiffening and his cock twitching as the first pulse of his climax wracked his body. Dean watched mesmerized, still coming down from his own peak. Cas was beautiful like this – all hard lines and angel grace. The first drop was like a balm to his overheated skin and Dean stuck out his tongue to swipe at at it, not wanting to miss the initial taste. Cas groaned and came in stripes down Dean’s flushed cheeks.  Dean sat back on his heels and closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of the warm splatters of Cas’ come marking him, owning him, loving him. 

Dean’s eyes fluttered open to the soft slide of Cas’ tongue against his lips, cleaning him up and licking into a gentle kiss. “Dean, you are exquisite like this,” he mumbled after finally pulling away. Dean focused finally, coming back to the present, and blushed at Cas’ blatant compliment, pressing himself back into the crook of Cas’ neck, heedless of the come still covering most of his face. 

“Mmmm, I’ve missed that,” Dean whispered into Cas’ skin, enjoying the closeness after…  He pushed back on Cas shoulders and stared a moment as the realization hit him. “I guess Sam broke the curse, or it expired, or something.”

Cas leaned over and grabbed Dean’s discarded shirt, using the wet cotton to dab at the rest of the come drying in flakes on his face. “It would appear so, yes.”

“Well you gotta admit, his timing is impeccable,” Dean said with a grin, tugging Cas in to lean against Baby with him. “Damn, it’s good to have you back.”  Dean couldn’t help but tighten his grip.    
  
“I never left, Dean,” Cas reminded him, punctuating his words with a kiss.  “It is, however, extremely pleasant to be able to be able to touch you again.”   
  
“I couldn’t agree more, Sunshine,” Dean nodded, after returning the kiss with enthusiasm.  “I couldn’t agree more.” 

 

  
  
Dean grasped behind him to the toolbox where he knew he’d set his phone when he heard the familiar muffled sounds of  _ Ramble On _ .  Sam razzed the shit out of him for never changing his ring tone, but how do you find something better than Zepp? When he finally managed to get a grip on it, he dragged the phone to his ear without even glancing at the screen.

  
“Thanks, Sammy!” he practically yelled into the phone, sure he was gonna catch crap for being a little  _ too  _ enthusiastic.     
  
‘Oh my God, Dean.  You didn’t waste any time.  I only destroyed the curse ten minutes ago.”   
  
Dean couldn’t help but laugh.  “Oh trust me. We know exactly when that curse was broken, down to the second.”  He turned his head to look at Cas, still flushed and smiling. “So what did it turn out to be?”   
  
“So get this,” Sam said, clearly amused, “you know those Chinese finger traps?”   
  
“So, some asshole was a real prankster.”   
  
“Sure was.  Once Mia and I started picking through all of that stuff that fell, it stood out like a sore thumb.  We made sure we didn’t touch it, but you could see some etchings along the one edge where the curse was written.  I took a match to it, and we heard the curse pop and watched it spark out.”   
  
“That’s awesome, Sam.  Thanks for sticking around there.  Did you ever solve the missing person’s case?”   
  
Sam laughed.  “Yeah, so turns out that wasn’t even our thing.  Some woman was just luring men online, and Mia’s dad fell for it hook, line and sinker.”   
  
Dean ran a hand through his hair.  “So the only actual case was me,” Dean said, with a smirk.  “Somehow that figures. Well at least you got to spend a bit of time with Mia.  How did that go, Romeo?”   
  
“Well, uh…,” Sam hesitated.   
  
“Spit it out,” Dean pushed.  No way he was letting this slide, not when his little brother was hiding something.   
  
“She decided we were incompatible.”  Sam admitted, sheepishly.   
  
“Huh?  And what’s her reasoning for that?” Dean asked, suddenly feeling like the overprotective older brother.  “She think she’s too good for you or something?”   
  
“No, Dean,” Sam replied, sounding kinda bummed.  “She’s vegan. She said she can’t date someone who loves greasy burgers and hates vegetables.”   
  
Dean burst out laughing.  “I’m sorry, dude, but that’s hilarious,” he wheezed.  “I knew your poor diet was gonna catch up with you sooner or later.”   
  
“You’re a dick, Dean,” Sam said, but there was no menace in it.  “I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”   
  
“You got it,” Dean replied, tapping the screen to end the call and setting the phone down on the ground beside him.  “How much of that were you able to hear?” he asked Cas with a smile.   
  
“All of it,” Cas laughed, curling himself farther into Dean’s arms.  Damn that felt good after not having it for so long, but the concrete floor was fucking cold on his half-bare ass.  “Well I’m glad my brother’s voice carries so I don’t have to repeat it all.” Dean leaned in to press his lips against Cas’ cheek, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses to Cas’ ear, and whispered, “Let’s move this to some place more comfortable, huh?”    
  
“Yes, please,” Cas replied.  
  


**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for No One Knows What it's Like](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14976155) by [foxymoley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymoley/pseuds/foxymoley)




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